Acquainted With the Night
by GreyMemories
Summary: A tear in the sky appeared after the explosion of the Conclave. Marcher noble, Evelyn Trevelyan is the single survivor of the disaster, bearing a mark of unknown magic on her left palm, the key to stopping the chaos that spreads throughout the world. The threat to her life will propel her deep into a fight to restore order and peace to the world.


Acquainted With the Night

 _Swirling green mist bled through her, a light in the darkness guided her swiftly through the blackened void. Fire and ruin blurred in front of her eyes. Through the beating in her ears, the echoed screams and pleas echoed mercilessly around her._

 _A woman_

 _Evelyn Trevelyan gaped up at her. The woman's shrouded form stood atop a jagged mountain, illuminating green vapours from her bodice. Her expression was masked by a shawl but her arms were stretched out inviting Evelyn to join her._

 _Churning waters ran red below her with the blood of those who drowned in them, their bodies drifting steadily along the still waters while demons feasted on the ones who washed ashore. The smell of death and fear festered in the weightless air. With every breath, the more light headed she became._

 _Evelyn peered down into the river. Glazed over eyes stared back at her in the red ink, thick water. It was too deep to traverse without swimming. She would have to swim through death to make it across alive, there was no other path. There was no point in looking as over looming shadows began to lap at her heels._

 _"You must hurry!" A feminine voice called as if it was spoken inside of her head._

 _Placing her foot deep into the water, she submerged herself in deaths water. Her hands scrambled, gaining purchase on a body and lifting her head out. The water was as cold as night but did little to ease the fire burning through her. She kept her eyes sealed as she swam, unwilling to look the dead in the eyes as she used their bodies to guide her across._

 _She could hear the shrieks of her pursuers on the bank. She allowed herself a small victory knowing they would not follow._

 _Her hand found the edge of the bank, her other soon joined and clawed the dead earth to help drag her out. Her lungs coughed out the water from her system onto the ground and began to refill with the thin air._

 _Her feet moved before her brain did and when she looked up next she was digging her fingers into the protruding bladed rocks of the mountain. Her fingers and hands bled profusely, dirt stuck under her nails. Four times her hand slipped, still soggy from the water, her palms scrapped down the mountain until they found an outstretched piece of rock and clamped down. Her left hand beated like her heart, fast and throbbing._

 _The shrieking returned behind her. Her eyes followed the sound and she was greeted with several sets of red eyes and pointed yellow teeth at the opening of gapping cavities._

 _"You must hurry!" The voice called again, bringing her out of her transfixed state._

 _She climbed for what in her mind seemed like hours. Always just out of the reach of snapping teeth. As she neared the top of the peak, the woman was bent on her knees, hand out stretched like before but now so close, she could grasp it._

 _Her left hand cracked and thudded. Green shone brightly before her. She fell._

Before Evelyn opened her eyes, she was aware of the fire coursing through her left arm. The pain throbbing through her had burned her even in her unconscious state. Her eyes opened, blinking twice to adjust to the darkness that surrounded her. Through blurry, half opened eyes she began to look around, twisting her head to the side, her cheek rested on cold stone underneath. Bare walls, low vaulted ceiling, several cells aligned along the walls. No windows and only one door. The sharp metallic smell of blood was unmistakable. Her heart quickened its pace, echoing deep in her thumping head.

There were two torches in the room that illuminated only two dark corners of the space but a bright green light flickered somewhere near her that that allowed her to see at least a few feet in front of her.

She was not alone.

A pair of steel boots stood in her line of sight and reflected a flickering dim green light.

Her distorted reflection greeted her in the boots. Her brown hair was damp and clung to a red gash on her forehead. Before she could look up at the owner of the boots, the person turned on their heels and marched away. The clunking of the boots echoed off the stone walls, piercing her ears at the sudden sharpness with every thunk.

"She's awake" a voice grunted from the place where the sound disappeared. The sounds of several swords being drawn caused Evelyn to still her weak movements.

"Are-are you sure?" another voice whispered, less assertive than the first.

"'Am I sure?' Quit asking stupid questions and run and get the Seeker" the man yelled followed by the scattered running of the other man out the door.

Silence fell throughout the room and Evelyn dared to sit up, to move herself onto her arms and away from the cold, hard ground but a sharp twinge restrained her. She looked down and saw her wrists were both heavy and bound, tightly. What little energy she could muster she raised herself off of the ground, ignoring the startled, sharp inhales of the people around her and inspected her bound hands.

Tight metal clamps trapped her hands along a steel bar, restricting her movements entirely.

 _What is going on? Where am I? Where is the.._

Her left hand crackled profusely, immediately drawing her attention to the fire ignighting in her veins. It felt as though she was stubbornly holding onto a blazing iron poker that was just fresh from the flames. She screamed and whimpered through the pain, clenching her hand against the consistent pulsing. The guards in the room did not give any indication on lowering their weapons or offering aid. Instead they raised their swords higher, as if preparing to put a wild animal down.

As the pain subsided after a while, gingerly she turned her manacled hands toward her face. She was instantly blinded by a flashing green light that emitted from her hand in a dazzling way, that if she had seen it from a distance (and if it was not causing her bones to roast inside of her) she would have thought it was pretty.

Crackles of green light shown through a large slit embedded into the palm on her left that oddly reminded her of the fireworks that used to be set off during the winter festival in Ostwick. The bright green that lit up the sky that elected such fascinated joy out of her now lit up her palm made her feel sick. The veins bleeding from her palm were a mutated green, running deeper and shallower as they reached her wrist and travelled under her sleeve. She didn't even want to think of how far they spread along her arm.

With each new crackle, the bigger it seemed to become.

A hand wrapped around the hood of her robe and lifted her an inch off the ground. In her hazed state she barely heard the door of the room slamming open let alone what the woman in front of her was saying. Evelyn gazed up at the woman. Tall and strong, the woman's cropped black hair framed her strong face, a scar running along her tanned cheekbone, and brown eyes full of wrath underneath finely trimmed eyebrows. Of course, her frightening demeanour was only enhanced by the ominous green light coming from Evelyn's hand.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now?" The woman demanded, dropping Evelyn back onto her uncomfortable position on the floor.

"What..happened?" Evelyn managed "Where am I?"

The woman sneered, choosing to ignore her inquiries and paced around Evelyn like a lioness circling its prey before it ate them "The Conclave destroyed. Most Holy, every Mage and Templar seeking to end the war, all dead because of you" she paused in front of Evelyn again and pointed down to her glowing hand "because of.. that".

 _The Conclave?_

 _Everyone dead?_

 _No...not everyone..._

Evelyn barely had time to register everything tossed at her as the woman angrily snapped and gripped her left hand in front of her.

"Explain this" she demanded

Evelyn tried not to turn away from the light as she tried to catch her voice "I.." cough "I can't" she whimpered. Her voice sounded as if she had gargled nails.

"Liar!" she exclaimed. Her hand was dropped but the woman's own came down hard on her cheek. Evelyn crashed to the floor at the unexpected blow. The sickening sound reverberated harshly. The mark on her hand roared with light as if it was defending her, warning the woman not to come closer.

"Cassandra, that's quite enough" A soft voice reasoned from the back of the room "We need her".

Cassandra huffed but sheathed her sword and marched back to let the newest addition to the room forward, her hand never leaving the hilt. While Cassandra wore steel plate armour and dawned a shield and sword, this woman wore a hooded robe with the symbol of the Chantry on it, though her face seemed softer that Cassandra's. Evelyn had initially thought this woman to be a mother in the Chantry, the daggers strapped to her legs however made her second guess this notion.

A firm hand guided her back into a sitting position.

 _"Do you remember what happened?"_

Images materialized through her mind quickly, scenes changing at a rapid speed she was unsure if she understood them at all.

 _A woman in green_

 _Blood_

 _Teeth_

 _Eyes_

 _Falling_

 _"A woman?" The woman cocked her head, as if making a mental note of the fact. Apparently Evelyn had said those things out loud._

 _"I don't...I don't understand" Evelyn croaked. Even her own voice sounded foreign to her, nothing seemed familiar "Everyone is dead?"_

 _She could remember her journey to the Conclave._

 _Thousands poured over the hills to the Conclave nestled warmly in the mountain tops of Haven. The sun was beginning to rise over the peak of the sanctuary, several people gasped in awe at the sight, praising the Maker for such a beautiful moment. It was a splendour to look upon. Statues of Saints guided them along the path with gentle eyes and delicate gestures, eternally carved into marble._

 _The travellers followed the saints devoutly till amid the contour of statues, a single regal statue dominated everyone's vision. Growing up in a Chantry fearing household for the last twenty-three years ensured that this statue was a familiar sight. She could even remember the miniature ones her mother had placed in different rooms of the Trevelyan estate._

 _Andraste stood warmly at the end of the path. Her arms outstretched, holding her familiar bowl of blazing fire. The smoke twirled and danced through the air leading towards an imperial stone acropolis with several serrate parapets, protruding on four corners of the building and a 200 foot tower in the centre that swelled as it came to the top, barrelling in to create a dome._

 _It was the grandest structure Evelyn had ever seen._

 _"The Conclave destroyed"_

 _Evelyn reeled at the memory of Cassandra's words. Such a grand structure could not have been taken down so easily. Although the people of Kirkwall had probably thought the same of their Chantry. It was not as grand as the Conclave but it was bigger than the one she frequented in Ostwick, or so she heard. Rumours had speared of its entire destruction too._

 _Kirkwall only suffered the loss of thirty or so people who were in the Chantry at the time of the explosion. The numbers that the Conclave could fit, she didn't want to think of the numbers._

 _Not even...no she would not think like that. She doubted they would answer her anyway._

 _The woman regarded her for a moment, eyes flashing with dangerous uncertainty, though she held herself more steadily than Cassandra did, for that Evelyn was grateful. Though her hands were crossed tightly behind her back, if Evelyn didn't know better she was restraing herself from wanting to grab her._

 _"Do you not know?" a fine red eyebrow was raised under her hood._

 _"How could I kn..?" Evelyn started but retracted her words when she heard Cassandra snarl behind the woman. "No, I don't"_

 _The two women turned to each other and in a silent exchange the hooded woman turned her attention back to Evelyn._

 _"An explosion erupted during the peace talks, killing thousands. An explosion caused by your mark"_

 _At the woman's blunt answer Evelyn's heart tightened in her chest._

 _Thousands of people_

 _She had travelled there with family members, servants and friends. They couldn't be dead. Her mind strained as she tried to recall the last moments she had with them, where they were, but her mind was full of a dark swirling void and a woman, shrouded in green mist._

 _It was Tuesday, the last time she checked. Evelyn forced her mind to reel back before green swallowed her vision, back to the last memories she could recall. Warm-breath of the hearth in the tavern, jovial banter. A pair of familiar brown eyes crinkled in amusement._

 _"You must hurry!"_

 _The pain in her hand and the pain she felt in her heart began to blur. She couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. She clenched her hand tighter to her heart as much as the bonds allowed, she tried to squeeze the spasm out of her. Tears streamed out of her as the unbearable pain shook her entire being._

 _She remembered the devastation Kirkwall had brought to the Free Marches. Ceremonies were conducted in the Ostwick Chantry for days for the deceased, until the Circles of the Free Marches rebelled and caused a whole new thing for people to pray over._

 _"_ Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will bring the prisoner. There is only so much we can tell her" Cassandra motioned to the guards stationed around her to sheath their swords and pick Evelyn up into a standing position. One of the guards held her firmly under her arm when her legs wobbled from the change of position.

"I will inform the Commander of this" Leliana breezed out of the room dutifully and Evelyn mourned the loss of the level headed one of the two.

Two guards on both sides of her held her arms tightly while one in front, with shaking fingers, unlocked the manacles. The steel entrapments fell to the ground and Evelyn sighed with relief, wishing she could rub her sore wrists. She should have known that it wouldn't last forever when her hands were pushed tightly together and thick rope became her new shackles.

The rope burned her bruised wrists but she kept silent lest she got a matching bruise on her other cheek.

The soldiers nodded to Cassandra, seeming pleased with the strength of the bonds. The Seeker turned and walked out of the cellar. A sharp end of a sword was pressed into the small of her back. The two guards who flanked her gripped her tightly and proceeded to march forward, uncaring if her feet were still wobbly and uncoordinated, they carried her bodyweight with them to avoid delaying the Seeker.

As they ascended, Evelyn tried to focus on anything other than the walls around her. Outside of the cellar was not much different from the inside. Cells aligned the walls, few torches were lit and shown on the cobwebs draped across the walls, covering some of the dull motifs. All around, large painted plaster began to unfold depictions from the Canticles that were frayed with age, though Evelyn still felt the sting of the painted eyes following her through the corridor. Even the brightest colours were nearly invisible.

Were they even still in Haven? Evelyn thought, the halls were all but neglected, the building they were in may even have been abandoned.

She didn't know what the damage to the Conclave did to the surrounding village, perhaps Haven was destroyed too.

The Trevelyan's raised long lines of Templers and Chantry Mothers to be the envy of every other devout family in Ostwick. Evelyn believed in the Maker and Andraste although she was not as devout as her family. Of course when the Banns son shown magical abilities, it was the talk of Ostwick for months. The irony that the Marchers acted like Orlesians with gossip never failed to amuse her.

It seemed that with the destruction of the Chantry and now the Conclave, not only had the Maker turned his back on the world but was also laughing at it.

The sound of voices echoed down the stairs up ahead. Evelyn was hauled through the lower parts of the building and up the stairs into the main hall. The soldiers seemed content with lifting her weight rather than waiting on her to stumble as she walked. As she and the guards appeared behind an unhinged door, Evelyn peered into the new space. The main hall was congested with people. It was starling for Evelyn to enter a room with so many people when she was only with a handful of guards. It was even more startling that the people inside were the survivors of whatever happened at the Conclave.

A handful of Chantry sisters in their white and red robes bustled about the room, kneeling in front of dying or wounded men and women, administering aid or giving them last rights. A few were praying before a eight-foot tall model of Andraste. Soldiers carried the wounded to floor mats and lay them down before seeking aid themselves. Several were bloodied and bruised and Evelyn caught a glance of a few with missing appendages.

Apparently the small chantry had become a makeshift healer's cabin.

Most who they passed glared at Evelyn or backed away from her as if she would burn them if they stood too close as she was escorted outside and began muttering amongst themselves.

Evelyn did not recognise one face in the hall. She wanted to turn around and look again but she couldn't find it within herself to meet the sullen, hopeless expressions on the people's faces.

Leaving a small congregation of Soldiers behind, Cassandra led Evelyn to the exit, two wooden doors guarded heavily for a chantry. Evelyn was surprised to see the village of Haven when dragged outside. Their party had stopped in Haven before continuing the journey to the Conclave. The unmistakable smell of druffalo still lingered. The village seemed to be intact, no collapsed buildings, no fire, no monsters. She released a heavy breath she forgot she was holding, with relief. Some may have survived after all, she hoped.

Although she sensed something was wrong. The light outside was too bright, it burned her eyes at first. She surmised it to being locked in a dungeon for Maker knows how long, but it looked eerie.

She wished she didn't look up.

Just like the mark on her hand, the heavens were scarred with a yawning, green break in the cloud line. Cracks swirled around the clouds and enveloped them, similar to the veins on her wrist. The supernatural light licked the mountain tops, shining the green light onto the pure white snow and twisted the natural image of nature into something more sinister.

"We call it the Breach" the Seeker informed her. She joined Evelyn at staring up at the sky "It's a massive rift into the world of demons. That grows larger with each passing hour"

Evelyn looked down at her marked hand, the mark also appeared to be growing larger. If they waited any longer, she would be surprised if she still had her hand.

"There are others, smaller in size but they release numbers of demons every hour. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave"

Evelyn snapped her head back up to the Seeker "How is that even possible?" She knew nothing special about magic but from her limited knowledge she knew that such powerful magic was unachievable.

The Seeker's fine eyebrow raised in her direction, an underlying answer of "You would know"

Evelyn was braced for the accusation, and yet it still seemed utterly ridiculous. Evelyn's jaw dropped, raising her bound hands a fragment to point towards the sky, or rather what was left of it "You think I did this? You think I did this to myself?" she nodded to her hand next.

As if to emphasise her point, her hand cracked along with a thunderous roar of the breach. Lightening spread through the sky as she toppled in on herself and onto the ground. The two soldiers holding her up scrambled backwards, letting her fall.

She heard strange humming in her ears, as if string was being pulled from her mind. Her mind erupted with a stab of pain inside her skull. Visions of a shrouded woman, gaping maws and bloodied water floated before her eyes. Evelyn gasped as the visions returned with vivid clarity.

The glowing woman was reaching out to her, beckoning her with frantic arms to hurry. Her shouts of desperation pierced the putrid air, drowning out the tortured and dying people in the red river. Evelyn caught her eyes as she reached for her hand. They were beautifully kind, ethereal even. But like last time a bright light engulfed them both before she could ask who she was.

Cassandra knelt in front of her on the ground, holding her shoulders to prevent her collapsing into the mud. The Seeker almost felt sorry for the girl, her small form was shaking violently, simultaneously with the breach, as the waves coerced through her, but quickly reminded herself of what this girl had done. She didn't deserve her sympathy.

Evelyn's eyes shot open, and she drew a startled breath, her foggy eyes locked with the Seekers hardened brown in desperation. The Seeker staggered backwards. She had caught the glimpse of the girl's eyes before, ocean blue with a small ring of gold circling the pupil. Now her irises roiled the darkened green of the breach, giving her a more mythical appearance.

Cassandra's dark eyes settled on the exposed skin on her neck and narrowed. The mark on her hand had spread rapidly, staining the veins along her neck. They were running out of time.

"What is happening to me!?" Evelyn shrieked in agony, unable to hold back the tears any longer as they cascaded like torrents down her face.

The images of the woman and the darkness lingered in her mind. She tried to shake the images from her brain, but it felt sealed permanently into her mind. Evelyn had endured hardships in her life as most others had, and she had always overcome her challenges while relying on intellect. Though her current predicament had left her shaken too deeply to find any of those skills useful.

"Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads. It is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time"

Evelyn struggled to remain upright, she was almost thankful for the Seekers help, however grudgingly it seemed.

"There will be a trial that is all that I can promise, however you are needed to fix this" Cassandra explained further.

"How!? How in Thedas can I fix this when I don't even know what it is!?" Evelyn yelled, surprising herself with how firm her voice sounded.

Cassandra thinned her lips and affixed her with callous stare "I do not know, but you must try. The people have already decided your guilt, doing nothing will do nothing but confirm it" Cassandra grit her teeth "If you are truly innocent you will help"

"And if I'm not guilty?" Evelyn spat.

Cassandra looked not even vaguely convinced "Someone is, but you are our only suspect"

Evelyn fixed the Seeker with a pointed stare before turning her attention to her marked hand. It pulsed harshly underneath the churning green, as if it had a life of its own. Grudgingly she knew that the Seeker was right, her supposed guilt would only be proven if she remained idle. Although she doubted that would be an option if the guards hauling her up by her arms and nudging her forward were any indication. She did suppose it would be better to travel willingly then go kicking and screaming.

But if she did manage to close the Breach, what would happen to her? If such a force managed to destroy and entire building while punching a hole in the sky, it would definitely kill her. In that there was no doubt. She was not a mage, foreign magic bleeding into her system without a stable fountain to drain from will surely destroy her. Perhaps if she was, she could have stood a chance, but she was not the mage in her family. She wondered idly what Seth or Edmond would have said to her if they knew what had happened.

They were at the Conclave, Seth representing the Ostwick Circle, Edmond the Templars. Both were parallels of the other. They were both stationed at the Circle, Edmond being his brother's jailer for the rest of his life and Seth resented him for it. It was why Evelyn was even at attendance at the Conclave, to keep the two from fighting.

The request from her father had been an odd one. Studying in the College of Orlais granted her little time to be with her family, let alone the ones who were posted in a Circle tower. They had been absent from her life for years, though no less important. Her last correspondence from her brothers- letters explaining Seth's Harrowing. The cruelty of the Templar order knew no bounds it had seemed. Edmond was chosen to be the Templar to 'put down' Seth if his Harrowing should have failed.

Given Edmonds evident loyalty to the order, Evelyn had never harboured any delusions that he would have hesitated to strike, though he would have regretted it, he was no monster.

Seth was the youngest of the Trevelyan line, fifteen winters but the knowledge of an elder who had seen ninety. He would have put old master Daithi to shame. He was placed in the Circle at the age of six, unbeknownst to fourteen year old Evelyn who was sent to Orlais for formal education with her Grandparents on her mothers' insistence. She had never forgiven her parents for their secrecy.

A letter from Edmond, months preceding, informed her of her brothers' arrival. Edmond had been stationed in the Circle a year prior though he was away from home training before Seth's birth, the two had never truly met.

And when they did, they were sworn enemies. The hatred after the Harrowing had caused a rift that had never fully healed. Evelyn had hoped that the talks with the Divine would have smoothed the relations between them. She knew it wouldn't have, but now she would never know now.

Evelyn could suddenly hear her own heart. The thought of her brothers had sent a surge of longing through her bones. In a fleeting instant, she saw images from the past. Cradling Seth in her arms, playing pranks with Edmond on their eldest brother, Fredrick, who was too snobby for his own good, before the servants pulled them by the ears inside for dirtying their clothes before dinner.

The red river coursed through her mind again, pulling her out of her melancholy. The glazed eyes of the dead forced her to swallow a lump that had gathered in her throat. Even her fondest memories were being replaced slowly while the demons gnawed at the fringes in her mind.

The Seeker stared at her, unbeknownst to the turmoil weaving through her. Evelyn didn't expect any sympathy anymore, it was clear she would receive none. Despite her mistrust towards the hardened woman in front of her, Evelyn knew behind those concentrated eyes was raw panic. The world was ending and the only possible solution was a shaking noble woman who was rolling in the past, uncertain for the future.

Her family would lose another child. Fredrick and Donal would be the only ones left though that would hardly give her parents comfort. Fredrick was too pompous in his title of 'Heir', he would run the Trevelyan line southwards if given the reigns for too long and his lifelong affinity for bachelorhood and the luxuries of noble birth caused her parents more headaches than Donal's lackadaisical notions towards everything.

Despite the Chantry's laws on Mages and Templars, Edmond and Seth were the only reliable heirs her parents had. If things had been different, if the world allowed for difference, things would have been similar.

Her distaste for Chantry methods reached a new level. She had been raised Andrastian. The prays and the hymns were latched into her mind like a leech. She learnt the teachings, on a simpler scale they could have just said "Templars good, Mages bad" it would have saved them a lot of time. Perhaps the mage, Anders, was correct about the destruction of the Chantry.

Though at what cost? More death and destruction. More people to spread the Rite of Tranquillity as if it were a cure for the common cold. The Chantry destroyed the legacy of the Elves on the Exalted March, what was to stop them doing the same with the Mages?

Looking back to the green hole in the sky, Evelyn could have laughed. All of the trouble with the Templars and Mages seemed minuscule compared to the breach. The breach was unbiased, unforgiving, slaughtering people indiscriminately with demons from the fade. It was above the war, above the Chantry and certainly above Evelyn. Though she seemed to be the only one able to stop it.

She had to try. Needed to succeed. There would have been no point in dying just to leave the world in ruin. Though her fate seemed to be written in stone. Close the breach and be ripped apart, or close the breach and be beheaded after the trial.

She broke confidently away from her guards on slightly wobbly legs towards the Seeker. The guards tried to grip her arms but jumped back again when her mark flared. At least it was good for something, she thought.

"I'll do my best, that's all I can promise"

A light glint passed through the Seekers eyes as she regarded Evelyn. Her lips turned slightly upwards in confirmation and turned, leading the Evelyn and the guards towards the mountain.


End file.
